


Big Bad Wolf and the case of Teen Angst

by MissInComplete



Series: The MollCroft Papers [14]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aunty Molly, Eliza is the storm, F/M, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mollcroft, Molly is the calm, Mycroft IS the British Government, Mycroft is a dad, POV Mycroft Holmes, Parent!lock, Protective Mycroft, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are Parents, Tumblr: INTPthinkinginquiet, Uncle John - Freeform, Uncle Mycroft, Uncle Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 04:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10352358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissInComplete/pseuds/MissInComplete
Summary: Mycroft and Molly's daughter, Eliza, is worked up because she can't always solve crimes and visit murder scenes like her cousin Rosie so she does something stupid.As always it's own AU but could fall in line with 'Uncle Mycroft' one shot.





	

Mycroft held his head in his hands for the second time that day. Well, technically as it was close to 2am now so it was actually the first time he’d done it today but he doubted it would be the last. 

The first time he found himself cradling his head was in his office bunker  _ yesterday  _ afternoon. 

“Why can’t I ever go with Uncle Sherlock?!” His daughter Eliza pouted, a frown to match her Uncle John’s deep on her brow. “Rosie goes all the time! I’ll be fine! Uncle Sherlock will look after me, and Uncle John! AND I know how to shoot if anything happens-” This line of questioning had been going on for 15 minutes and had been repeated more times than Mycroft could stomach. 

“That’s enough.” Mycroft’s nostrils flared as he gritted his teeth. He’d have John sent back to Iraq - why did he think it was a good idea to encourage the girls to use firearms?

He needed to talk to his wife - if he dealt with this himself he wasn't sure he wouldn't be done for murder. 

Mycroft slowly loosened the vice grip he had on the arms of his chair and began listing his answers, raising a finger for each one. “You are 15 years old, Rosie is 19.  _ I  _ am not Rosie’s father; I am yours. The cases your Uncle’s go on don’t often end  _ fine -  _ In fact they often end with someone is hospital - and I won’t allow that to be you and, finally,  _ You _ are never, and I mean  _ never to  _ handle John’s gun.” He took a deep breath, he couldn't recall the amount of times he’d wanted to throttle Sherlock for inviting Eliza on his little day trips. And how much he’d wanted to gag Rosamund when she charged in singing their praises when some dangerous stunt had paid off. “I will be having words with your Uncles’ about inviting you along in the future - And guns?! if your mother found out-"

“Dad-”

“Eliza.” He snapped. It was final, she knew that tone. That was the same stubborn tone she’d inherited from the stern man sitting opposite. 

Tears sprang into her eyes as Eliza had stormed out and slammed his office door with as much force as her petite figure could muster, which was a surprising amount given the rattle of the pictures on the adjoining wall. 

For a short while Mycroft didn't move. He closed his eyes and leveled his breathing. He hoped this phase would pass soon, he missed his daughter being in awe of him, running to him when he got home, rather than screaming at him and locking herself away because he was a ‘mean’ father.

A buzz from his intercom called his attention back. “Sir” He hummed his response. 

“Miss Holmes is with Andrews and is heading home.” 

“Thank you Anthea.” Thank the lord she’d decided to not fight her bodyguard again, though he doubts poor Andrews got away without an ear bashing. 

Mycroft adored his stubborn, intelligent, feisty and fierce daughter. But sometimes she was just… just so much like him he struggled to get through to her. He thought of his wife and relaxed a little. He checked his watch, Molly should be home soon and then she could defuse Eliza like she did him and they would be back on talking terms by tomorrow morning. 

* * *

 

Later that evening Mycroft arrived home around 6pm, after a meeting ran late. He frowned as he head into the kitchen and then into the study. No sign of Molly and Andrews had told him that Eliza hadn’t left her room since arriving home. 

He pulled out his phone,  “Molly?”

“Oh, hey. One second.” He heard her fumble with her phone, hurried foot steps and a door shut. “Hello, love.” She whispered quietly, “I’m working late tonight - last minute homicide. Everything okay? How’s Eliza?”

Mycroft paused and then sighed, “She’ll be fine-”

“What happened-?”

“Nothing my dear, everything’s fine. I’m just the big bad wolf again and I’m left contending with teen angst. I was hoping you’d be home to clear it up-”

“Oh love, not again.” Molly felt defeated as she sank on the stool in her office. Eliza and Mycroft couldn’t seem to manage being in the same room as each other, she was beginning to feel like a referee rather than a mother. 

“I’ll try to talk to her. A car will be waiting when you finish.”

“Try to keep your temper, please? She’s trying, love, she really is.” 

“Yes dear. See you tonight.” He hung off and head up stairs. Andrews was positioned outside Eliza’s door and stood when Mycroft approached. He said nothing as he walked by but gave a weak smile. When Mycroft raised his hand to knock the door he heard a voice shout from inside, “Go away Dad!” He gritted his teeth again, as his arm fell to his side.. 

Andrews gave a huff noise and mutter, “If you don’t mind me saying sir, my girls were the same and they aren’t much better now they’ve left home. Things always seemed better in the morning though.” The elder Holmes didn't reply he just took a deep breath and lifted his eyebrows.  _ Maybe he’s right. Try again in the morning.... Plus Molly will be home. _

* * *

 

It was after 11pm when Molly arrived home. She greeted Andrews and knocked softly on Eliza’s door as she slowly walked in. The lamp was on in the corner and there was a large huddle of blankets coiled in the middle of her bed. Molly smiled and pulled the door back to, she’d talk to her in the morning. No point waking her up now, especially if she was feeling sensitive. 

Molly crawled in bed next to Mycroft and wrapped her arm around his waist. She felt him sigh as she kissed his shoulder, “It’ll all be sorted in the morning, love. She never stays mad at you for long.” A low hum was all that came from her husband as he rolled over and pulled her into his chest. “She’s just dying to be involved, everyone else is and she feels left out.” 

“It’s not safe-”

“Oh, I know love, I know. But, her entire immediate family do it and it’s cool and interesting and different and she has been allowed on some cases too, so she can’t see what he difference is when we say no sometimes.” 

“ _ I  _ wouldn’t allow her on any cases- it’s only if the circumstances can’t be avoided and there's ample security and no risk to her-”

“Yes, love. If she’s wrapped in cotton wool she can go - I know.”

“Molly-” 

“Sssh, I’m not trying to fight you love.” She leaned up to kiss him, “We’ll work it all out in the morning and maybe we can set so guidelines so she can still help Sherlock out with the safer stuff?”

Another low hum.  _ We’ll see. _

* * *

 

At 2am a knock came at his bedroom door and Mycroft sat bolt upright, “Sir.” It was O’Brien who had taken over from Andrews. Molly began to stir but Mycroft told her she should go back to sleep. He rose from his bed and pulled on his dressing gown and came out into the hallway. “Sir, Miss Holmes has gone missing.”

Mycroft stopped breathing, he was sure. “Find her. Now.” He ground out and charged downstairs to his office. He had Anthea on the phone in seconds and the surveillance cameras loaded up. “How?!” He snapped at O’Brien. 

O’Brien looked panicked as he began, “I came on shift and started by checking the perimeter. When I reach outside Miss Holmes’ window I noticed it was wide open so when I came back up I went straight in to check and she wasn’t there- Sir I’ve already gotten a team out searching the grounds and-”.

“Shut up. And get out there. NOW!” Mycroft bellowed. “Anthea?” She’d been listening in. 

“I’ve had a team sent round to Sherlock’s and I’ve activated the tracker in her trainers - It will take a few minutes to get a precise location.”  Mycroft said nothing as he watched the footage of his little girl scaling the side of the building and running off into the night. He was torn between wanted to hold her tight and tear her apart. How could she be so stupid? Did she not understand how much danger she was putting herself in?!

And here he was, holding his head in his hands for longest three minutes of his life. 

A buzz from his phone got his attention.

“She’s here.” Sherlock said instantly, and gave the address of the latest crime scene.

* * *

 

Mycroft climbed out of the long black car and stood staring at scene of a double murder. Sherlock, John, Rosie and Eliza stood next to the police cars blocking the road, lights still flashing with a dozen policemen milling around. His gaze felt heavy on Eliza as she moved slowly towards him. Rosie gave Eliza a quick sideways hug and muttered a ‘Hi Uncle.’ as she walked on with John.

“Brother mine,” Sherlock greeted him quietly, “If she wasn’t in deep trouble I’d be proud - She hacked Lestrade’s phone to gain access to the latest crime scene location and-”

“Sherlock.” Mycroft muttered, not taking his eyes off of Eliza. For once his brother took the hint without causing any more trouble and gave Eliza a kiss on the head before heading over to Rosie and John. Mycroft said nothing but gestured to the car and she climbed in without a fight. The journey back was silent except for the occasional sniffle from Eliza and the beep of Mycroft’s phone.

As the car pulled up to the house Eliza made to climb out but Mycroft asked her to wait. “Eliza.” She sat still looking down at her feet. Mycroft wasn’t sure what to say here, he had so many things he wanted to scream at her. He hated feeling so vulnerable and the idea of losing her or her being hurt… well it was too much even for Mr Ice Man.

“Dad, I’m sorry!” She broke his thoughts, “I know, I shouldn’t have gone- I was just so mad at you and Andrews wouldn’t stop following me around and Rosie gets to see all the really cool things and, and,” She began to sob, “Dad, I’m really sorry…” 

He gathered her up in his arms, the small young lady she was, and held her tightly until her frame stopped shaking. “Uncle John was so mad with me… He refuse to let me in and made wait outside with him. The bad guy could have gotten away because of me!” 

Mycroft said nothing as he listened to his daughter's heartfelt claims and simple hummed along until she finished. “You know why we're all so mad with you don't you? It was-”

“Reckless, stupid and impulsive.” Eliza cut in. “I know Dad. I won't do it again. Sneaking out was a ridiculous idea… Uncle John's already told me…”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, “Did he explain why?”

“Yep, as loudly as he could.” Eliza pouted. If Mycroft wasn't still anger he may have found this part amusing. “He told me, and the entire crime scene, that the entirety of England could fall because I just  _ couldn't  _ listen to my Dad. That there are loads of awful people who want to hurt you and that you love me so much that you would let it fall if it meant you could protect me, and mum.” 

Mycroft shifted uncomfortably - John wasn't wrong but he wasn't sure how he felt about John being right. 

“Please don't tell mum…” Eliza whined, “I can't handle her being mad at me too!” 

“Your mother doesn't have to know-” “Thanks dad!” “-on the condition that you stop trying to give your bodyguard the slip. And no more fighting us on security.”

“Okay….” 

When they arrived home O’Brien secured the room and Eliza went straight to bed, but not before giving her dad one last hug. “I am really sorry Dad.” He kissed her cheek and she head into her room. “Good night O’Brien.” O’Brien’s eyes grew wide as she shut her door and he glanced at Mycroft not knowing what to say.  _ Maybe she was trying. _

* * *

 

The next morning Mycroft was sat at the breakfast table with Molly as Eliza wandered in, “Morning.” She muttered, eyes still half closed, kissing both her parents on the cheek. 

Molly looked at Mycroft wide eyed and then glanced at Eliza who was buttering some toast. Mycroft said nothing and gave a small shake of his head,  _ I have no idea why she's suddenly fine. Nope.  _

“Your mother and I have come to an agreement in regards to crime scenes palaver.” Eliza’s head spun to head Dad as she panicked.  _ He hasn't told her has he?!  _ Molly looked equally confused, _ “ _ We've agreed that you can go along with Sherlock if it's a 5 or under.” 

Eliza leapt from her seat and hugged both her parents. “Yes! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She dashed from the room, already dialling Sherlock’s number.

Molly smiled and looked over her tea cup at her husband. “Very clever Mr Holmes.” He hummed, not taking his eyes off the paper he was reading, “You know Sherlock doesn't get dressed for anything less than a 7.” 

“Oh? Really?...” A smug smile on his lips. “Well... Eliza will see to it, I'm sure. Either way, that's not our problem.” 


End file.
